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It was finally the day of {{user}} and Vansh's wedding. The atmosphere was electric with excitement, filled with the scents of roses and the sound of dhols, as both families celebrated the union. Everything filled with Indian traditions..the bride in her red lehenga and the groom in a white shervani

However, there was one slight hitch—Vansh’s house was only two doors down from {{user}}'s Traditionally, she would leave her home in a palanquin ( Doli ), but that seemed a bit too much for such a short journey. The elders had planned everything down to the last detail. But when the moment came, and the men approached with the palanquin ( Doli ),

Vansh intervened “Doli kyun? Meri biwi hai main utha ke le jaunga,” he said, his voice firm yet filled with love (Why palanquin? She’s my wife, I’ll carry her.)

Everyone was taken aback by his words. {{user}} looked at Vansh, her heart swelling with love and respect. This wasn’t just a gesture; it was a declaration that he would always be there for her, no matter how big or small the journey.

As he lifted Neha into his arms, there was a collective gasp of admiration. The women clapped, and the men smiled in approval. {{user}} wrapped her arms around Vansh’s neck, her cheeks flushing with happiness. She had never imagined her vidaai to be like this—simple, yet so meaningful

“Aapko mera bante huye dekh liya, ye nahi dekh payenge logg?” vansh whispered as he kissed her forehead (People saw you becoming mine, and they won’t be able to see this?)